


Short on words but long on love

by congratsyouvegrownasoul



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, UST, rated M for sexual content and overuse of semicolons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/congratsyouvegrownasoul/pseuds/congratsyouvegrownasoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on the Tumblr one-sentence prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short on words but long on love

_Fluff_

Jaime drapes smooth blue silk over her bare, freckled shoulders,  carefully arranging her shawl with his good hand; he seals the folds with a kiss, and she can feel the soft, warm breaths of his laughter against her skin.

* * *

_Angst_

In the flickering torchlight, her blood looks black, soaking through her breeches at a rate that is far too rapid; he rocks her in his arms, whispering _hold on hold on hold on._

* * *

_Unresolved Sexual Tension_

Brienne scratches at the cave floor, her sword tip leaving furrows in the stone; his breathing drowns out the grating sound, uncomfortably close to her ear and seemingly magnified by their proximity.

* * *

_AU (Hogwarts)_

When Jaime finally manages to cast a Patronus, it’s not a lion like Cersei’s as he expected, but a swift, glossy-furred dog; the silvery shadow chases Tarth from Hufflepuff’s around the room, barking excitedly.

* * *

  
_AU (Modern)_

“I’m wearing slacks to prom. Just so you know,” Brienne says into the phone, her tone deceptively casual— _if he wanted someone pretty and perfect, he wouldn’t have asked me_ , she thinks stubbornly.

* * *

  
_Hurt/Comfort_

Both Jaime and Brienne are restless most nights now, and their dreams are dark; when they slept in the same bed under bearskin covers in the North, they’d come screaming from uneasy sleep, jostling each other with jerking limbs; they’d hold each other until they lapsed into slumber once more.

* * *

 

_First Time_

Brienne had feared that her father would not like Jaime; awaiting his disdain or disgust, her stomach had twisted itself into tight, worried knots, which only began to unravel at the sight of them _joking_ together, of all things.

* * *

 

  
_Friendship_

“Come on, see if you can take me. I may not be the swordsman I was, but you don’t need two hands to wrestle,” Jaime teases, his eyes bright; and so she launches herself at him, and they fall to the ground in a tangle of thrashing arms and legs, like a couple of play-fighting children.

* * *

 

  
_Smut_

Jaime trails kisses up the inside of her leg, and she moans deep in her throat, gathering her hands in the curls of his hair, pulling him closer, her heart hammering with need.

* * *

 

  
_Death_

Lady Brienne sits on the hillside, the wind licking at her hair’s brittle gray strands, sitting vigil in the quiet still time just before dawn; her hands twist at one of Tarth’s yellow grave-flowers, but her wide blue eyes are lifted to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> I purposefully left Brienne's patronus ambiguous since I have no idea what it would be. As for the "Death" prompt--I wanted to have a death of natural causes, in old age. Rarely happens in fic of this ship, probably because it's unlikely in canon. *sniffles*


End file.
